Perchance To Dream
by AussieEllie
Summary: That plea, so filled with need, with love, with pain, was my undoing. Sequel to Destruction in Desire. Spoilers for Breaking Dawn.
1. Bella

**T****itle:** Perchance to Dream (1/2)

**Summary: **To be here, to lay in the sun with him, at times felt like no more than a dream. Sequel to **Destruction in Desire**_. _Spoilers for Breaking Dawn.

**Rating: **M

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and all related places and characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**A/N:** After all of the wonderful reviews and requests for more, how could I not continue filling in the blanks of Edward and Bella's honeymoon? So here is the sequel to Destruction in Desire. This will be a two-part tale, the first from Bella's perspective (her untold dream from P. 106-107 just itching to be revealed) and the second from Edward's (one all-too-willing thoroughly seduced husband!). Feedback is again much appreciated!

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_The heartache and the thousand natural shocks  
That flesh is heir to,--'t is a consummation  
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;  
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub:  
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come_

Hamlet, Act III, Scene i

William Shakespeare

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My mind hovered in the darkness, straddling the worlds of asleep and awake, content to drift aimlessly as my eyes remained shut to the world. Without sight, my other senses became slightly heightened, the environment around me mapped out in touch and sound. The noon sun beat down upon me, the slight shade of the nearby palm trees taking the sting out of the burning rays but leaving the heat to diffuse throughout my skin as if warm water was running through my veins. A light breeze carried a fine mist of ocean spray from the curling waves of the bright, blue sea, their gentle crashing one of nature's most beautiful lullabies. Underneath me, I could feel the sand clinging to my skin, molding itself to my body as my weight caused me to slightly sink into its warm embrace.

I wondered, as I found myself doing more often as the time grew closer to the day when I would become immortal like my beloved husband, what the same environment would feel like when I became a vampire. Would it feel the same, sound the same? Would the heat of the sun above still burn me, or would it be a balm to my chilled skin, warming me from the inside like it did the snakes that could be found sunning themselves on rocks back in Phoenix? Would the sound of the waves still be a gentle lullaby, or would my improved hearing morph them into a cacophony, a mismatched orchestra? Would the sand still feel like one entity, or would I be able to feel each minute particle, each tiny grain of quartz and rock, coral and shell individually? Edward and the rest of our family had tried at various times to explain the differences between mortal and immortal senses, but I knew that until I was one of them, I could never truly comprehend how differently Edward and I viewed the world around us.

A shadow fell across my face, the semi-darkness behind my eyelids turning ebony, interrupting my wandering thoughts. Blinking open my eyes, I was greeted with a sight that shone more than the sun high above, my Edward's face mere inches from my own, his skin sparkling like the most perfect diamond, gold eyes dancing with amusement. It was a view so heavenly that I could stare at it for all eternity and a shiver of excitement swept through me as I remembered that barring any unforeseen complications or separations (such as week-long Alice-instigated tort..., I mean _shopping_, excursions), there was no reason I couldn't. Of course, never taking my eyes from Edward's face would make certain activities a trifle hard, so perhaps I should amend that view to include all of him, from the tips of his unruly bronze hair to each flawlessly formed toe and all the perfection in between.

"I leave for ten minutes and you fall asleep on me," he teased, breaking through my mental musings, one cold finger reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from my face, "Typical human."

Usually any reminder of what I stood to lose when he changed me, like the ability to fall asleep, would cause a shadow of pain to darken his burnished gold eyes but this time they remained clear, a testament to how much the prospect of eternity together was erasing his doubts. Enough that I felt confident enough to tease him without fear that he would shut down and pull away as he was want to do.

"I was not asleep and even if I was, you only have yourself to blame. _I_ was not the one who kept us up all last night. We mere mortals do require some rest, Mr I-Don't-Need-Sleep."

I glared at him with mock indignity as I spoke, lifting a hand so I could jab his smooth marble chest in emphasis, becoming slightly dazed by the rainbow light thrown by his sparkling skin. My false anger could never last long in the face of my angel's utter beauty. To be here, to lay in the sun with him, at times felt like no more than a dream.

He chuckled in response, his sweet breath washing over me as he leant forward to press a chaste kiss against my lips, his hands coming to rest on either side of my shoulders in the warm sand.

"I don't recall you complaining at the time love," he murmured into my skin as he pressed butterfly soft kisses along my jaw line, "In fact, I seem to recall you were quite…vocal in your appreciation."

A faint blush suffused my cheeks and not for the first time, I prayed for the day when my embarrassment would no longer be painted upon my skin for all to see. It did not last long though, rapidly replaced by want as Edward's kisses upon my skin became more insistent, one hand leaving its resting place on the sand to dance lightly across the bare skin of my stomach. Alice had packed only bikinis into my suitcase, and though the one I wore was the most conservative of them all, the royal blue halter top and boyleg shorts combination still left more of my skin exposed than I was usually comfortable with, even with my husband the only soul around to see me.

"What are you thinking?" came a husky yet musical whisper, Edward's kisses stopping at the valley between my breasts, his chin resting upon my chest so he could gaze into my eyes. His hand was still splayed across my stomach, fingertips tracing looping patterns onto my flesh, the contrast between my heated skin (warmer than usual thanks to the sun) and his chilled hand causing ripples of pleasure to shoot downwards, an ache beginning to build between my thighs.

"Nothing," I answered, shifting slightly so I could intertwine a hand into his hair, "Nothing important."

"Bella…" Edward started, his voice tinged with frustration, "I wish you wouldn't edit your thoughts, It's hard not being able to hear you."

I opened my mouth to inform him that these thoughts were not worth hearing when a wicked smirk curled the edges of his mouth and a calculated gleam appeared in his eye.

"What are _you_ thinking?"

I echoed his words nervously, my heart speeding up as he moved to straddle me in the sand, his left hand catching hold of both of my own and pinning them above my head before I could protest (not that I wanted to, being surrounded by Edward was always a good thing, despite whatever that gleam meant he had planned).

"I'm thinking," he said softly, his head hovering above my chest, the sunlight shining off his back, "That I'm just going to have to entice you into telling me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours."

"I'll never tel…" I started to say resolutely but the effect was ruined as the end of the sentence dissolved into a low moan when his perfect lips closed around one nylon-encased nipple. His cool mouth teased the sensitive point, his tongue swirling around the pebbling skin. The friction created by the fabric only enhanced the sensation and sparks shot through my body, adding to the need which was clouding my brain. Where his hips pressed against mine, he rocked against me, the evidence of his own desire grinding against mine causing my lower half to buck upwards impatiently, trying to feel more of him, all of him.

"Tell me what you were thinking," he commanded seductively, the words vibrating through my skin.

A whimper escaped my lips as his mouth abandoned its previous spot but he did not leave me unsatisfied for long, his free hand deftly untying the straps of my bikini top, the fabric barely having fallen to the wayside when his lips were on me again, this time caressing naked flesh. His fingertips trailed everywhere, up my arms, across my neck, down my stomach, my legs, exploring every inch, the icy tips leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Edward," I managed to gasp out, ignoring his command. The sound of his name only encouraged him, his hips grinding harder against mine for a moment before he pulled back, resting on his knees so he could move downwards. He pressed kisses to the skin his fingers had explored, his tongue tasting my skin as he went. I felt like I was aflame, my body unbearably hot, the ache between my legs acute to the point of pain.

Tears of frustration leaked from my eyes as he bypassed where I needed him most, his kisses trailing all the way down my left leg, then my right.

"Patience love," he whispered softly, caressing every toe before moving the icy torture back up my leg, higher and higher, my moan echoing into the sultry air as he nuzzled the skin of my inner thigh.

He stopped, his breath lightly blowing on the most intimate part of me, anticipation rising in my veins, He raised his head to lock his golden gaze on me, expectation shining in their depths.

"Tell me Bella," he commanded again, his tongue darting out to lightly press against my bikini bottoms before he retreated, laying a kiss on the skin directly above the elastic band.

"I was thinking…" I stuttered, my mind muddled by the passionate haze which had settled upon me. What had I been thinking? I could not remember, everything had been swept away by my husband's ministrations and all that was left was desire and love and a need, a need so strong that I would do anything to assuage it.

"I was thinking about how being Bella Cullen is the most fantastic thing in the world," I blurted out, a true statement though I knew not the one I had been contemplating earlier. However my answer seemed to appease Edward, his beautiful eyes shining with love and gratitude for the underlying message that I did not regret marrying him despite my earlier reluctance, before they darkened with desire once again.

"Now, that wasn't so hard was it?" he murmured before nuzzling his face against me, the light pressure pulling a whimper from my throat. His hands impatiently pushed aside the fabric so he could lay kisses on bare flesh, his tongue swirling around my sensitive nub. I could not contain my cries, my pleas for more as he brought wave and wave of pleasure upon me with his talented tongue, any embarrassment felt at being so exposed swept away by a current of bliss. His hands did not stay still either, one lay heavy across my stomach, the other dipped into me again and again, his cool fingers stroking and curling inside me, dragging moan after moan from my lips

"So beautiful, my Bella," I could hear him whisper before I lost the ability to process my surroundings, my world narrowed down to the sensations he was creating. The pleasure coiled in my stomach, building and building, the fire in my veins burning me deliciously from the inside out till it exploded in a flurry of sparks, my beloved's name torn from my lips as the world turned upside down and I fell into the dark. And when my eyes opened to a darkened ceiling instead of a blinding sun, and my body awoke to the feeling of a cool form curled next to and not on top of me, the sense of loss for that easy interaction, the grief for that Edward unencumbered by the guilt of hurting me, was more than I could bear.


	2. Edward

**T****itle:** Perchance to Dream (2/2)

**Summary: **That plea, so filled with need, with love, with pain, was my undoing. Sequel to **Destruction in Desire**_. _Spoilers for Breaking Dawn.

**Rating: **M

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and all related places and characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**A/N:** Here's part 2! All recognizable dialogue comes from pages 106-107 of Breaking Dawn, I needed to explore Edward's thought processes as to why he gives in to Bella before moving on to the actual giving in (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). This part is longer as, despite the fact that I'm a girl, Edward is much easier for me to write…I think it's my tendency to write in flowery language which suits Edward much more than it does Bella! Anyway, enjoy and once again, feedback is much appreciated.

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I used to detest the nighttime. For a vampire, the idea of hating the hours of darkness which could cloak our unnatural movements, the hours that let us enjoy ourselves without fear of discovery is almost laughable, but then, I was not a normal vampire. The night to me merely reminded me of my loneliness. The others in my family escaped in their bonded pairs to celebrate their love in physical acts, Carlisle and Esme in their room, Jasper and Alice in his study, Emmett and Rosalie, well, wherever. When I could not take the lustful thoughts any longer, nor the unexplainable ache they produced which whispered there something was missing from my existence, I would escape into the night, but even there I could not find solace. The hum of the thoughts in my head never ceasing, reduced to the seedy musings of those low humans who craved the anonymity of the dark, the thrill of skulking in the early morning hours.

Then I met my angel and night became a time to look forward to, a time to rejoice in the love which brightened my existence and at times made me believe that I was not the damned creature I viewed myself to be. Those hours, minutes, when I could cradle Bella's sleeping form in my arms, when I did not have to share her with family or friends became the most precious commodity. When her somnolent chatter allowed me my only uncensored insight into her thoughts, when I could surround myself in her sweet scent, potent and addictive despite the burn it would conjure in my throat, those were the times I truly felt alive.

Now though, now I had reverted to my former opinion, the nighttime hours the worst kind of torture. For it was in the night that I had hurt her, that I had marred her porcelain skin because I could not keep control of my desire. It was in the night I held her close, listened to the steady, beautiful thrum of her heartbeat and remembered the feel of her, the taste of her, how she felt when I was surrounded by naked flesh and aching need. I did not even have her usual sleep talking to distract me, her form oddly still and silent, almost as if she was unconsciously punishing me for ruining the one human experience she had asked me to give, a proper honeymoon. But how could I touch her again? How could I risk adding to those yellowing marks upon her skin, or worse? It was something I had considered, turned over in my mind again and again as she slept in my arms and every time I reached the same conclusion. I couldn't, I wouldn't risk her safety again, even if by doing so I was hurting her emotionally. The dog had been right, I should have been killed for even considering trying to touch her, to make love to her while she was still so fragile, so breakable, so…human.

A sharp gasp ripped through the air, breaking my melancholy musings and alerting me to my love's return to consciousness. The sound had been oddly pained, stirring concern in my dead heart.

"Bella?" I whispered into the night, tightening my arms around her and gently shaking her shivering form, "Are you all right, sweetheart?"

Her response was to gasp again, the sound carrying a slight hint of shock in its breathy tones. Her face was still turned away from me and I detected a subtle change in her scent, a hint of salt which had not previously been there. A second later I knew why, as her face turned towards me with rivers of sorrow pouring down her cheeks.

"Bella!" I knew my tone was bordering on frantic and perhaps carried too much volume considering she was so close but her tears had kicked my protective instinct into overdrive, "What's wrong?"

I moved my fingers to brush away the falling tears, catching them before they could drip off the edge of her cheek but more came, a never-ending torrent for which I had no explanation. Had I hurt her again? Had my embrace been unconsciously too tight as I had watched her sleep? In the space of her heartbeat, a thousand scenarios rushed through my mind, each more disturbing than the last. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, an answer came, accompanied by a broken sob which tore at the edges of my unbeating heart.

"It was only a dream."

A measure of relief swept through me. A dream, a nightmare most probably, that was something I could help soothe, something I could hopefully fix with words of love and the comfort of my arms.

"It's okay, love, you're fine. I'm here." I rocked her in my arms, reinforcing my words with actions, desperate to calm her down. I could never stand seeing my love in pain, or in this case tears. It was perhaps one thing I had in common with the male population at large, the utter inability to withstand a female in distress. "Did you have another nightmare? It wasn't real, it wasn't real."

"Not a nightmare." She shook her head in emphasis and a blanket of confusion settled over me. Not a nightmare? What other type of dream could it have possibly been to incite such sadness in her? I did not wonder long as she clarified, "It was a good dream."

Bella often confounded me, with her hidden thoughts and her abnormal reactions to certain situations, and this time proved to be no different. If it was a dream she had enjoyed, why was she crying so? I knew her tears were not those of joy but sorrow and the reaction did not fit the explanation she had given.

"Then why are you crying?" Confusion coloured my tone, matching the feeling that swirled around my brain.

"Because I woke up," she answered in a wail, her arms coming up to wrap around my neck with a force that would have been uncomfortable if I was mortal, her face buried against the column of my neck, her sobs muffled by my skin. As I contemplated her answer, I had to admit there was a certain logic to her reasoning, though only a logic my silly Bella could have come up with. I could not contain a short chuckle at her expense, but even that carried a tone of the concern I still felt as her sobs had not yet subsided.

"Everything's all right, Bella. Take deep breaths."

She did not heed my words, instead crying out, "It was so real! I wanted it to be real."

Mentally flicking through my repertoire of tactics to calm my slightly hysterical wife, I decided that the age-old belief of a pain shared is a pain lessened may have the best chance of stemming her tears.

"Tell me about it," I urged anxiously, "Maybe that will help."

"We were on the beach…" Her words trailed off as she pulled back slightly from my embrace, her tear-stained eyes locking onto my face. I could not decipher the look she wore, part contemplation, part grief perhaps? Not for the first time did I desperately wish that her mind was open to me, that I did not have to resort to reading her body language and relying on her mouth to relay her true thoughts and emotions without censure. A minute passed and Bella did not continue, her lips remaining stubbornly closed, the slowing of her tears to a gentle trickle down her rosy cheeks only bringing a slight sense of relief to my frayed emotions.

"And?" I finally prompted, unable to wait for her to decide to speak again.

"Oh, Edward…" She breathed out my name, but her voice was laced with pain, reigniting the worry which had almost taken permanent residence in my heart.

"Tell me, Bella." My own voice was full of pleading, needing her to speak, to explain the dream which had affected her so. I managed to see a spark of resolve flash through her beautiful brown orbs a split second before her lips were upon mine, the soft heated skin scorching my cold mouth. I was not expecting to have her suddenly pressed so close against me and I reacted involuntarily, my lips moving against her feverish kisses for the barest of moments before I regained control of my senses. Battling with the instant need which had arisen, I managed to grab a hold of Bella's shoulders and gently pry her away, holding her at arms length.

"No, Bella." Had the intensity of this unknown dream scrambled her thought processes? One minute I had the damsel in distress, crying, sorrowful, grief-stricken and the now I have the temptress, the part of Bella that had taken to wearing every piece of expensive, beautiful lingerie Alice had packed, the part that could stir smoldering lust with one simple kiss.

Her arms dropped from my neck as a fresh cascade of tears poured down her cheeks, pain and defeat radiating so fiercely from her gaze that self-loathing washed through me at the realization that I was hurting her again, still, with my rebuff. When would I stop? When would come a time when I would not hurt the woman I loved?

"I'm s-s-s-orry."

Her mumbled apology, coupled with the still flowing tears and sorrowful eyes were too much, too much for me to bear and I crushed her form against me, hugging her tightly, feeling the elevated beat of her heart echoing against my chest. I knew what she wanted, what she needed and guilt and pain wracked my form in equal measure as I fought against the impulse to just give in. I had vowed I would not make love to her again until she was less breakable, to spare her the pain I had inflicted, but all it seemed I had done was cause her untold suffering of a different kind. To give her a taste of true intimacy, of the joy that comes from truly being one and then to rip it away must have seemed like the cruelest tease. My resolve was slipping, my love, my desire, my need to ensure her happiness above all else warring with my instinctive impulse to protect her from everything, even me.

"I can't, Bella, I can't!" The agony of my internal war rang clear in my voice and a tiny part of me hoped, prayed that she would heed it, that a tiny hint of self-preservation would cause her to pull away before I lost control of the emotional storm brewing within me. Of course, my Bella was never one to listen to that instinct and instead she pleaded, her cries muffled against my skin but reverberating through me as clear as if she had shouted it at the top of her lungs.

"Please…please, Edward?"

That plea, so filled with need, with love, with pain, was my undoing. Surely the risk of once again sullying her perfection with the physical evidence of my passion unchecked was worth taking, if only to fix what I had broken in Bella with my careless vow. The pain I could inflict could be no worse than I was already causing her, and I at least could take comfort in the knowledge that I could control myself enough that my greatest fear of killing her, of murdering her as she lay beneath me was unfounded. With a groan of surrender, I pulled her head back to my own, pressing my lips to hers with a mere fraction of the passion which was steadily rising within me.

I could feel relief coming off of my love in waves as she pressed tiny kisses against my face in gratitude. I did not feel that I deserved it, there was every chance that this time we may emerge from our passionate haze to find that I had hurt her worse than bruising her skin, but I could no longer fight against this, no longer fight against this tangible expression of a love so deep I was drowning in its warm embrace.

I could feel the silk of Bella's nightgown sliding against the bare flesh of my chest as laved attention on my neck, her legs straddling my waist so she could rock against my burgeoning erection. Her hands were running all over me, her warm fingertips exploring my skin as I had done hers on that one perfect night. With every touch, every caress, she fanned the flames of my passion, the lingering doubts I had pushed aside and I could not help but think that she was doing it deliberately; strengthening her hold over me for fear that I would stop her, that I would let my apprehension ruin this second chance. I wanted to reassure her, to tell her that I had made my decision and I could not turn away from it now but my words became lodged in my throat as she licked a path down my chest, her teeth lightly tugging on my nipples, my low moan of lust escaping into the sultry air.

I could feel her grin as she kept up her ministrations, her hands now running up and down my thighs to worry at the edge of my boxer shorts. Her kisses dipped lower, her silky hair now trailing over the flat expanse of my stomach, the sensations created blinding in their intensity. Her hands came to hover hesitantly over the elastic of my undergarments before with slightly shaking hands, she pulled them down my legs as I raised my hips to ease their removal. She stopped then, perched atop my knees, her eyes roaming over my form. She looked like a dark angel, the moonlight shining in through the window highlighting her alabaster skin, the black silk of her lingerie clinging sinfully to her curves. I was so lost in my contemplation of her beauty that I did not register her movement til a pair of warm lips placed a gentle, exploratory kiss at the tip of my hardness. My reaction was immediate, fire spreading upward through my groin as I poured all my willpower into not bucking my hips upward.

"Bella," I managed to croak out, my voice husky with need, "What are you doing?"

Her eyes raised to mine, determination shining in their depths.

"I would have thought that was obvious, _husband_," she whispered softly, before trailing kisses up my length, her warm hands holding my hips against the bed. I could do no more than groan as I was engulfed in her scorching mouth, her tongue caressing me with innate skill. My hands clenched uselessly by my sides, the urge to tangle them in her hair and pull her head closer to me overwhelming but I was afraid I would pull with too much force, my vaunted sense of control once again deserting me in the face of my desire. As pleasure built in my veins and her mouth surrounded me entirely, I reached up to dig my fingers into the headboard, the wood splintering under my grip, large chunks gouged out effortlessly as every nerve ending sparked with need.

"Bella, beloved, you need…you need to stop," I gasped out as I was rapidly losing any control over my limbs, the heavy thickness that came with overwhelming pleasure settling into them. Her lips left me then, drawing a whimper from my throat and she had a mere second to look up at me in askance before I had pulled her head up to crush her lips to mine, fluidly rolling her beneath me in a movement that took less than half a second to achieve.

I attacked her neck with the full force of my desire, the scent of her blood nothing compared to that of the arousal pouring off of her. I needed to be inside her, I needed to feel her wrapped around me so I did not know where one of us ended and the other began. My hands pulled at the delicate fabric of her nightgown and it tore easily away from her perfect form in scraps, yet I could feel no shame for ruining the expensive lingerie as her naked body was once again revealed to my eyes in all of its flushed perfection.

My mouth was everywhere, touching her, tasting her, drawing moan after moan from her open lips as I caressed the pebbled nubs of her breasts, the soft, satiny skin of her stomach.

Her legs spread underneath mine, her hips rocking upward to press against me so deliciously, only adding to my already overflowing need. With hands braced on either side of her shoulders, I took a deep breath and locked my eyes on hers, the passion, the love I could see shining in them surely reflected in my own. I could feel the heat radiating of her flesh, the slick wetness between her thighs and I was lost, any lingering sense of indecision swept away as I carefully thrust inside her. That sensation, that feeling of completion, of coming home swamped over me and our mixed moans of relief, of a passion consummated echoed into the air.

With the tiny shred of control I had left, I started to move inside her, her warmth, the delicious friction rapidly becoming the only thing that mattered, the only thing I could process. Her hands were clutching at my back, fingers digging as hard as they could into my skin. My own were still braced on either side of her, the chance that I would mar her skin once again lessened that way. I nuzzled my head against her neck, the bloodlust that had overtaken me the first time strangely absent, my hunger for her love, for her passion overriding my other base desire.

Her cries grew louder, my name echoed over and over again in an endlessly litany of ardor, her voice becoming more breathless as the pleasure overtook her. She pulled my head from her neck and kissed me ferociously once more.

"I love you, I'll love you forever," she fiercely whispered against my lips, before her head was thrown back as she came violently around me, the exploding pleasure radiating from every inch of her form and I was helpless to do naught but follow, her name torn from my lips in a cry of benediction, of fulfillment. I slumped against her, my head pillowed between her breasts as she ran her hands through my hair, her voice whispering love and gratitude in equal measure. For a moment, all I could do was lay there, the love I felt for this amazing woman, for this utterly perfect angel who adored me, who loved me despite all my flaws, all my dark places, overwhelming me in its intensity.

Mindful not to crush her, I rolled us over so she was sprawled against my chest, her skin slicked with sweat and it was all I could do to stop myself from kissing every inch of her again, to envelop myself in her scent.

"Bella?" I whispered softly after several minutes, gently running my hand down her spine, "You were right, I let my fear rule me when I should have had faith in our love, in you."

There was no reply, except a soft exhalation of breath and I realized that she had already fallen back asleep, the steady beat of her heart slowing down to its resting rhythm. Chuckling lightly, I brushed her hair away from her face, content to watch the peaceful expression she wore in her slumber. Though I could not feel any regret for giving in to her, now that passion had released me from its grip and I could think clearly once again, apprehension seeped into my consciousness, one question echoing in my mind…had I hurt her again?

I let my gaze rest unblinkingly on her naked flesh, the hours crawling by as if time itself was drenched in thick molasses. But as the sun finally shone its first rays into the room, and no new marks, no new bruises appeared on the canvas of her skin, relief swept through me, followed by joy. I could love her, I could love her as any normal man would do his wife on their honeymoon without fear, without reluctance. Pressing a kiss to her brow smoothed out by sleep, I let my gaze drift to the ceiling, waking dreams of love, of pleasure to come my companions as I waited for my beloved to awake.


End file.
